Mike, your symbolism here is grand. And your descriptions in this piece are like tiny treasures, each wrapped carefully in emerald satin, appointed just so, for the reader to unwrap and savor bit by bit...
I watched a goose move off the water,
Foot like a well-formed branch extended,
Pushing away the images in the glass surface,
Leaving an imprint of shadow slowly dissolving.
The bird made it about twenty feet into the air,
A few droplets of water falling free like stars
Made into gems made into little cushions
Of padded, roving light.
Then, suddenly, something inside it gave up,
Or gave out. It fell, silently, the sounds of the city
Around it intensifying.
I watched its fall, there was no corkscrew, no
Feathers dislodged. No face to attach
Any bit of tragedy to.
Oh, those black eyes.
As it hit the water, went under, came back up
The clouds on the surface of the pond rippled,
A few feathers spun slowly free,
And I watched for a long time,
Smiling at the beauty and the rippling images
Of sky coursing like a curtain in the breeze.
The title is an excellent image inducer, as well. I like this piece very much.